Odi et Amo
by All-knowing Alien
Summary: Odi at Amo Latin for I love and I hate. This writer's first shot at angst. SiriusRemus slash...I really need to branch out. Review! Edit: Old fic. May be removed.
1. Chapter 1

_Me is back! Muahaha! Anyway. The loverly reviewer of mine, and author extraordinaire, Slashy Kitty, inspired this ficcy. All hail Slashy Kitty! For you other readers, this is my first attempt at pure angst…with minute fluffy-ness at the end I think, whenever that is…lol._

_Alrighty then! Let's get cracking!_

Disclaimer: Under the influence of sodium pentathol, or, truth serum, I am forced to tell you that I DO NOT own Harry Potter and Co. Dammit!

_Warning: Slash. If you find male/male relationships offensive, then read something else!_

_Timeline: Before the Potters' deaths and the fall of Voldie up to the PoA._

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"Chapter 1- Grave Mistake."

Night fell.

People plotted.

Time passed.

War raged.

Never had the wizarding world faced such conflict. Hunger for power was a powerful thing, as could be attested by Voldemort's reign of terror. Many witches and wizards, refusing to join him, had fallen, as casualties of the war.

But in the dingy bar that was the Hog's Head, a prophecy was made.

"_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies…and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not…and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives…the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…"_

Only one Albus Dumbledore heard this prediction, he and one of Voldemort's spies. There were rather many spies about. Whispers of a traitor in their midst.

Only question was…who was it?

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Sirius Black paced in the middle of the room.

"Dumbledore, are you sure there's no other way?" he asked, his grey-blue eyes alight with worry.

The current Headmaster of Hogwarts shook his head. "There is no other way. I assure you, this is the best method to keep James and Lily safe. And Harry, too. You want them safe, don't you?"

"Of course I do! It's just…I may not be the best choice as Secret Keeper…"his voice trailed away.

"Sirius. James trusts you. Don't doubt that trust," Dumbledore said, smiling, and placed his hand on Sirius' shoulder comfortingly.

"Okay."

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After the Fidelius Charm had been performed, Sirius immediately returned to the apartment he shared with a certain Remus Lupin.

His head was in turmoil. He should have never agreed to James' suggestion of him being the Potters' Secret Keeper. Sure, he was flattered at the black-haired man's conviction in him, but…truth to be told, Sirius had no idea whether he'd be strong enough when the time came.

Shrugging off his coat, Sirius called out Remus' name a couple of times before realising that the werewolf was on a secret mission for the Order. He seemed to be going on a rather a lot of missions lately…

He pushed the thoughts out of his head. Remus wasn't the spy! He couldn't be.

Sirius sighed. He wished that they could go back in time to when they were still teenagers in Hogwarts. Life was so simple then. But now…war had altered everything. Even Sirius, the carefree one, had grey hairs and lines over his face, the result of Voldemort's need for power.

'I need to cook dinner.' He tried to turn on the stove, but the blasted thing refused to function. Sirius cursed gently. He'd never gotten the hang of Muggle appliances. He glanced out the window and, seeing no one there, pulled out his wand and tapped the stove, which burst into life.

He pulled out a pan and started boiling the milk as instructed on the packet. He then added a spoonful of butter and emptied the contents of the sachet into the pan. The smell of mushrooms and cream sauce filled the air as the front door opened and an extremely tired Remus Lupin stepped in.

"Pasta?" the werewolf inquired, leaning over to kiss Sirius on the cheek gently.

"Yup. Couldn't be bothered to whip up something fancy tonight…sorry."

"No, no, pasta's fine! I'm curious though…if we get married, will I be the one who has the job while you slave at the stove for my dinner like a good housewi-househusband?" Remus asked, amber eyes twinkling with amusement.

"Remus Lupin! If you think for a second that I'm going to slave over anything for _you_, you are seriously mistaken!" Try as he might, Sirius simply could not keep a straight face and ended up howling with laughter with his boyfriend.

The moment was abruptly ended when Remus sniffed the air and remarked, "Is something burning?"

"Ah, shite! Moony, get out! You distracted me!" Sirius immediately tended to the slightly burned fettuccine he had previously neglected.

Remus pretended to be offended by this remark, though he laughed, and did as Sirius asked, and backed out of the kitchen into the bathroom for a looong bath.

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After dinner, a bath and a snog session with Remus before the lights went out, Sirius found himself frustratingly awake. He couldn't understand it. _Remus_ was out like a light. Why couldn't he?

It was clear that his thoughts, for once, were keeping him excruciatingly conscious.

Okay then. First thing: the Fidelius Charm. Being the Potters' Secret Keeper, he, Sirius, was in possession of their whereabouts, which could only be divulged if he wanted to. And, obviously, he wouldn't. Right?

He ran a hair through his midnight-black hair, careful to make sure that the movement did not disturb the sleeping form of Remus beside him. Sirius had to admit it…he was afraid. Dead afraid. What if Voldemort somehow knew where he and Remus lived? What if he took Remus hostage in exchange for the information on James, Lily and Harry?

'I can't stand the thought of anything happening to everyone I love…especially if it's because of me.'

Remus gave out a sudden snore. Sirius glanced at his partner and smiled. The werewolf truly was beautiful, despite all his efforts in denying the fact. His blond-streaked brown hair stood up in all directions, making him look so exasperatingly adorable. Sirius knew under those sleep-ridden eyelids were two perfect orbs of amber. His face, pale, was littered with scars, but they only served to accentuate his rough good looks. His lips were the palest pink, and were slightly open.

Sirius sighed. That was another reason why he was awake. Remus.

A thought had come to him while he was soaping himself in the bathtub. A thought he wasn't particularly keen on.

What if _Remus _was the traitor?

Sirius, although he wished it not to be true, was forced to look at the facts before him. Remus _had_ been going for a _lot_ of tasks for the Order recently. And he would never tell Sirius what he'd been up to. And Voldemort was offering equal rights for werewolves, who were discriminated against due to their nature.

The more Sirius mulled it over, the more convinced he was, although it broke his heart doing so. Would he, Sirius, be strong enough to deny Remus the information on the Potters' whereabouts?

'I can't deny Remmy anything…' And that was his weakness. Remus. One that Voldemort had control of.

"Padfoot?" a sleepy voice intruded on his thoughts. Sirius glanced to his side and met the half-open golden eyes of Remus. "Why you still awake?"

"No reason, Moony. Go back to sleep."

Remus complied, his head dropping back onto the pillow. Sirius decided to follow suit.

'I'll see Dumbledore first thing tomorrow.'

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James Potter ran his hand through his jet-black hair, irritated. This was the second time in two days he had to go through the Fidelius Charm. He wanted to be with Lily, and Harry, as time was precious, especially now, with Voldemort on the lookout for them.

Across the room, Sirius and Peter, along with Dumbledore, were completing the final steps of the charm. Sirius had been unwilling from the start; only today had he finally convinced both James and Dumbledore to switch the Secret Keeper to Peter.

Also, Sirius had demanded that the switch be kept quiet. Strange as it seemed, there was wisdom in this idea; no one would know that the actual Secret Keeper was Peter, they would only know of Sirius being the Secret Keeper, if they knew at all.

After the charm had been completed, Sirius took Peter to one side and told him in a quiet voice, "Peter, I want you to go into hiding. _Don't_ go back to your house, go somewhere safe…I know! You remember where we used to stay, all four of us, before James got married?"

"Yeah," the watery-blue eyed man said.

"Hide out there. I'll come around every few days. To make sure you're safe." _From Remus._

"Sure, Sirius. I-I'll go now."

"Good man."

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Remus felt like he was being slapped in the face, although Sirius had only said a few words to him and not raised his hand.

"W-what did you say?" he managed to get out.

"Get out, Remus. I'm breaking up with you." Sirius' voice was cold, his face devoid of emotion. His heart was shattering, but nothing of it showed.

Remus, however, did no such thing. Tears were streaming down his face, twin waterfalls pouring from twin amber orbs. "But…why? What did I do? I swear I'm not seeing anyone else, I-"

Sirius held up a hand. Oh, how much he wanted to take Remus in his arms and comfort him, and tell him that it was all a joke, that he loved him. But he couldn't. He had to be strong. For James and Lily, and especially Harry. "It was nothing you did. I just thought it was time we went our separate ways, Remus."

"But, Padfoot…you can't mean that…you _can't_!" Remus' voice broke then, and he sobbed openly.

Sirius did not move; he could have been a stone statue. "Leave, Remus."

And so Remus did, much to Sirius' surprise. He had expected a long and fruitless argument, but thankfully, there was none. Remus only packed his things, and, with a quiet and snuffle-y "Goodbye, Siri" he was gone.

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Sighing, Sirius went to the closet and took out his weather beaten leather jacket. A present from his favourite cousin's daughter, Nymphadora Tonks. Then, after locking the door to the apartment, got on his bike (another present) and proceeded to Peter's hiding place.

It had been four days since the switch. So far, no Death Eater had tried to get the information out of Sirius. Even so, he needed to check up on Peter.

Upon arrival, Sirius sensed something was wrong. He couldn't explain how he knew, he just did. Canine intuition, if you will. He knocked on the door a few times, and, seeing as there was no answer, placed a hand on the doorknob.

It swung open with no resistance.

Sirius swore. This was getting more and more troubling.

"Peter?" he called. "Peter, are you here?"

No answer.

Sirius went through the whole house, calling out Peter's name again and again, to no avail. Peter wasn't there.

The grey-blue eyed man slammed the front door closed in frustration and leant against it, breathing heavily. What had disturbed him most of all was not the absence of Peter, but the absence of a struggle…whatever, whoever took him away, they were someone Peter knew.

Someone like Remus.

Then a thought struck him, suddenly and totally, it was as if all the air was knocked out of him.

James and Lily!

He took a step toward his motorbike, but he heard the crunch of paper under his foot. Without pausing, movements fluidly graceful, he scooped up the paper for later scrutiny and kicked his bike to life, pressing the extra button it had to make it fly, the only accessory that made it different from the motorcycles the Muggles used.

Within moments he arrived in Godrics Hollow. What he saw at the end of the 5th lane made his heart stop.

Their house was…it had exploded.

Still on his motorbike, Sirius approached the remains of the two-storey building he had visited countless times before. He turned off the ignition, and took a few tentative steps toward the house, his movements shaky.

Suddenly, someone emerged from the ruins. Without thinking, he whipped out his wand. But then he saw the shaggy head and scraggly beard. Being over two metres tall was also a factor that distinguished Hagrid from Voldemort. Sirius hurriedly put his wand away. He saw a bundle of cloth in the half-giant's arms, looking very small. Harry! Harry was alive! He felt relief wash over him, and hastened to Hagrid's side.

"James and Lily…?" he asked, voice full of hope.

The tears in the beetle black eyes told him everything. Sirius sunk slowly to the pavement. "No…it-it can't be, it just can't…" He put his head in his hands.

"There, there, Sirius…there was nothin' yeh could've done…they died a heroes' death, they did…" Hagrid reached out an enormous hand and clapped Sirius' shoulder in what he thought to be a comforting way, but almost sent Sirius into the cement.

"But…Harry?"

"I dunno how he did it…but he survived, Sirius! He beated You-Know-Who!"

"W-what?"

"Yeah! He did! You-Know-Who's spell must've backfired…"

Sirius got to his feet and peered at the bundle in Hagrid's arms. A tiny Harry Potter gurgled at him with all the innocence only a baby can have. Sirius' eyes took in a scar on Harry's forehead, a curiously lightning-shaped scar. He gave the boy a small smile and looked up at Hagrid.

"Give Harry to me, Hagrid, I'm his godfather," Sirius said, but Hagrid shook his head sadly.

"I've got me orders from Dumbledore…He has ter live with his aunt an' uncles'."

"But…you don't mean Lily's sister!" Sirius exclaimed.

"Aye, I do."

"But…but…they're _Muggles_! Harry can't live with _them_!"

"I'm sorry, Sirius, really, I am, but me orders are me orders. I can't do nothin' 'bout it." Hagrid looked at him sadly.

Finally, Sirius gave in to the inevitable. "Take my bike, Hagrid," he said, handing the half-giant the ignition key. "It'll be faster for you," he added. "And I won't need it anymore," he muttered.

Hagrid smiled at him again. "You'll see 'im soon enough, Sirius. I'm sure."

Sirius kissed Harry on the forehead (the boy giggled and tried to grab his godfather's long hair) and stepped back to allow space for Hagrid to take off. "Goodbye, Harry. Keep him safe, Hagrid."

"Right you are, Mr. Black." And he was off, Harry cradled securely, disappearing into the inky darkness that was the night sky.

Sirius stared at the sky for a few minutes, then realised there were people coming out to investigate. He hurriedly strode away from the house, away from the remains of the Potter house.

Remembering something, he plunged a hand into his jacket and drew out the paper he had found earlier on. On it was scrawled:

_Too late, Sirius._

But it was not in Remus' handwriting.

It was Peter's.

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_How's that then? I plan on continuing it, and I promise I'll try my very very very best at writing angst. Advice is welcome, and so are gifts and etc._

_Anila :p_


	2. Sorry

Welcome to Odi wt Amo, the first chapter. My thanks to all my wonderfully supportive reviewers, you guys rock, roll and…uh, rock. Lol.

My special thanks to **Emily**, who reminded me where Odi et Amo actually came from. I totally forgot to insert the poem! (Which, by the way, doesn't belong to me, but to the famous Latin poet, Catullus.)

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_Disclaimer: I don't own the characters; neither do I own the poem. Don't remind me._

_Warning: Slash. D.U.H._

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Odi et amo. quare id faciam, fortasse requiris?  
nescio, sed fieri sentio et excrucior.

_**I hate and I love. Why do I do it, perchance you might ask?  
I don't know, but I feel it happening to me and I'm burning up. **_

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Sirius stumbled through the small park and managed to seat himself on a park bench. His mind was in turmoil, unable to adjust to the fact that he had made a huge mistake in thinking that Remus, his Remus, was the traitor.

He sat there, breath coming in short gasps, tears threatening to flood those blue-grey eyes. _Why_ didn't he see it coming? He was so utterly blind…But Peter had never given anyone evidence to prove himself of betraying anyone… He'd never given anyone reason to distrust him…because Peter was so innocent, so…incapable.

But now he had shown his true colours. His capability to betray his best friends.

Sirius stood up. Pulling out his wand and the letter, he tapped the letter twice and said, "Fiat lux (**1**)," to find the writer of the letter. Namely, Peter Pettigrew.

A line of red light blossomed out of the tip of his wand, twisting away out of sight. A line of light that would lead him to the traitor. Only he could see the light, as the caster of the spell.

He would find Peter. Teach him not to mess with his best friends. Then he would go back to Remus. Apologise on his knees. If that didn't work…well, he'd come to that later.

Remus.

"I'm sorry, Moony."

Sirius Black strode purposefully following the light.

A lone tear ran down his cheek.

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Remus Lupin collapsed heavily on the bed. The day after a full moon was never good for him. Especially since…

No. He would not continue that line of thought. But, against his will, the memory of not but a few days ago resurfaced.

"_Get out."_

What had he done to deserve that blank stare and toneless voice? Why didn't Sirius love him anymore?

Remus shifted slightly and winced as pain seared through him. He bit down on his lip, hard, to stop himself from crying out. Too hard, he realised, as he tasted the salty iron taste of blood. He sighed, letting his head flop back down on the pillow, past caring about a few drops of blood. He had lost a lot yesterday.

The werewolf didn't understand why last night's full moon affected him so badly. Last night, for the first time in years, he was forced to lock himself in an abandoned barn house and bite himself. It was a thing he had not had to worry about since school.

Much as he tried to deny it, he couldn't. Much as he tried to forget, the memories were tattooed to his brain, unmovable. He missed Sirius. He just did.

All Remus wanted to do was remove the memories of the black-haired man, even if it meant scooping his brains out. He wanted to hate Sirius with all his heart and mind. The only trouble being that…he loved Sirius with all his heart and mind.

Remus growled in frustration, his werewolf side coming out for a split second.

There was a soft tapping from the window.

He opened his golden eyes tiredly, and saw a handsome barn owl staring back at him impatiently, a letter clamped in its beak. Too tired to get up and open the window by hand, Remus concentrated all his strength in lifting his wand that lay on his bedside table. Giving it a wave, the window sprang open and the owl soared in, dropping the letter onto Remus' chest and soaring back out again, its task complete.

Slowly, as every movement caused him pain, Remus opened the letter that was addressed to him, and unfolded the folded piece of parchment inside. Inside, in curly writing, was written:

_Dear Remus,_

_You-Know-Who is gone! Harry Potter has somehow beaten him. However, James and Lily…both perished. Harry will be placed in the care of his relatives, Lily's sister and her husband. Please pass on the news to Sirius._

_Yours truly,_

_Dumbledore._

Tears stung Remus' eyes. Tears that were fuelled by a mixture of emotions. Happiness, at the end of Voldemort's reign, and the end of the ever looming risk of death. Sadness, at the deaths of his two best friends, James and Lily. Disappointment, at the fact that Harry would not be staying with him as he was Harry's (other) godfather. And the ever depressing thought of Sirius.

Sirius Black and Remus Lupin. Everyone said the two were polar opposites, but in truth, they weren't. Sure, they weren't identical, but they had their similarities.

Where Remus loved a good book and maybe a bar of chocolate, Sirius would be discussing his next prank with James or just being loud and rambunctious. Where Remus was timid and shy, Sirius was outgoing and noisy. Remus was also a little smaller built than Sirius. Don't get me wrong, the two were the same height, but when they stood together, you would swear Sirius was just…bigger.

However, they both shared a passion for beauty, and pain. Both, as teenagers, had gone through the self-harm stage, and had successfully arisen from that problem together. Both would do anything for their friends, death included. And they both loved each other.

'Well, not so much _now_,' thought Remus bitterly. A few more tears leaked out of his amber eyes; he was just too tired to restrain them.

Suddenly, another owl swooped down through the now-open window, dropped a piece of folded over parchment on Remus, and swooped back out again.

Remus sighed, wondering how many more letters he would get again. Then he saw the paw print on the parchment. Sirius!

He sat up, without seeming to notice the pain that shot up his spine. Unfolded the slightly crumpled paper.

One word.

_Sorry_.

Remus stared at those five letters written in his lover's hand for a long time, as if expecting the rest of the letter to appear suddenly before his eyes. But nothing.

Sorry. That was all he could say? _Sorry?_ That was a laugh. Practically unheard of. Break someone's heart and say sorry.

Drained, both physically and emotionally, Remus fell back on to the sheets, letter clenched in his hand. Sorry. Really.

Slowly, the werewolf drifted of into an uneasy sleep.

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Argh. You're all going to hate me for that. It's even shorter than my prologue! And again, it is a Saturday, and tomorrow is Sunday, which means tennis, and dance class. How physically draining. Lol.

Fiat lux – Latin for 'Let there be light.' Lol. Sorry for the butchering of Latin phrases, but I can't help it. I mean, come on, it sounds so cool! Heh. (Dodges things being thrown at her.) No offence to Latin lovers though.

And, ignore the plothole…I don't know where Sirius got the owl…use your imagination, say he magicked it up or something… "Accio owl," Lol.

Till my next, and hopefully longer, chapter.

anila


	3. Hell, or something like it

Next chapter! I have…nothing to say. Lol. For once.

_Disclaimer: You think I can get a copyright for the phrase "I do not own Harry Potter"? Probably not, but I tell ya, it's the best (and only) way to make money._

_Warning: Slash. Yeesh. It's Sirius Black and Remus Lupin loving!_

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Odi et amo. quare id faciam, fortasse requiris?  
nescio, sed fieri sentio et excrucior.

_**I hate and I love. Why do I do it, perchance you might ask?  
I don't know, but I feel it happening to me and I'm burning up. **_

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Thoughts of murder came to mind. And why wouldn't they? Who was Sirius to tell them to get out of his head? He welcomed them. It was what he wanted to do to a certain Peter Pettigrew, right after the torture.

He had Accio-ed his broom to speed up pursuit of the traitor. He knew the best thing he could have, and should have, done was to go to the Ministry or Dumbledore, at least, and tell them the truth, and then let them sort it all out. But no. Personal matters clouded his rational body of thought. (If he had one in the first place.)

His knuckles were white due to clutching his broom handle tightly, in anticipation of wrapping the digits around _somebody's_ neck, and squeezing. Hard.

As the first rays of dawn peaked above the horizon, Sirius hurriedly brought his broom down lower. It would do no good letting the Muggles see him, even for a fleeting glance. He would be in trouble for sure. Even so, he had another reason. The red light he had previously been following was pulsing gently. He was close.

Sirius touched down, lightly, confident that Peter was in the little town a few hundred metres ahead. After casting a shrinking spell on the broom, Sirius placed it in his pocket and ran into the Muggle settlement.

Finally, at the end of the light, Sirius found him. In the not-quite-crowded-but-as-crowded-as-it-gets-at-dawn town square, complete with its very own fountain and towering clock. In other words, it was pretty crowded, but not enough to obstruct his view, or cover up his shout.

"Peter!" he roared.

The small, watery-eyed man turned suddenly, as if he had known all along that Sirius was on his tail. He didn't even flinch as Sirius grabbed the front of his robes.

"How dare you do this? Betray your own friends, how could you? I trusted you, James and Lily trusted you!" Sirius hissed, ignoring the curious looks of people and praying to Merlin that these Muggles weren't nosy.

Peter only smiled. Not the "I'm-smiling-'cause-I'm-supposed-to-or-at-least-I-think-so" that Peter usually offered. It was a full fledged sinister smile, one you wouldn't dream of seeing on his face. Obviously, being Voldemort's follower altered people.

Peter pushed the fuming black-haired man away from him and walked back a couple of paces, but not before whispering, "The question is, Sirius, how could they have trusted _you_?" Then he shouted, for the whole street to hear, "How could you Sirius? Lily and James, I can't believe it!" He sobbed false tears.

"What?" Sirius saw Peter drawing out his wand. "No, you don't-" He whipped out his own wand from his back pocket, but it seemed Peter had the better of him. For once.

The whole street blew apart. Screams everywhere. Sirius flew backwards but didn't sustain serious damage as he still had his magical barrier around himself. He could see the giant gaping hole, the sewers revealed underneath, the filthy sewer rats squealing and scampering away from the light. He realised what Peter had done. The _coward_.

"You can't run forever, Peter! I'll get you, I swear!" Sirius once again found himself on his feet, yelling at the hole. He knew Peter couldn't and wouldn't hear him, he knew all the Muggles were staring at him oddly, and with fear. But he needed that little bit of comfort, he knew Peter would someday, somehow get his comeuppance. And Sirius would be there to laugh in his face.

Suddenly, people grabbed his arms. He looked at them. They held wands at the ready; Sirius wondered for a second why _Muggles_ had wands, then he realised; Ministry officials. Merlin they were fast.

"I'm not the one, I-" he started, only to be cut off abruptly when one official pressed his wand harder into his neck.

"You have done enough! As if killing James and Lily Potter wasn't enough, you kill Pettigrew too? You-Know-Who's orders, eh?"

It clicked in Sirius' head. They thought he was working for Voldemort! They thought he was the traitor, and that he had also killed Peter. Even though he knew he'd probably (Not probably. Definitely. ) be sent to Azkaban for life, he couldn't help but marvel at the ludicrousness of the situation. And so he laughed. Yes, laughed. He laughed so hard tears started streaming down his cheeks. He laughed so hard he didn't notice one of the Ministry officials lessen his or her grip on him and mutter, "Mental." He laughed so hard his ribs hurt.

And, many a mile away, Remus Lupin saw the unfolding events on the Muggle television.

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"…And that's all we have of the live coverage at this time. Join us in the next hour for in depth analysis of the explosion, and eye-witness accounts. This is Kate Vox, for Channel 6 news…"

Remus pressed the 'off' button on the remote and the grim-faced reporter faded from view. He couldn't believe it. Sirius was the one. The traitor. That was why he said sorry. A bit late for that now.

It would have been simple, Remus realised, for Sirius to pass on information to Voldemort, as he was the Potters' Secret Keeper. Remus wasn't stupid, he knew about the Fidelius Charm. When Dumbledore had mentioned using it, he had read up on it, keen to know everything about the charm.

It was just the idea of Sirius betraying _James and Lily_ that he couldn't wrap his head around. Sirius and James were inseparable, even after Hogwarts. They kept in touch, Sirius was the best man at James and Lily's wedding, and Sirius and Remus were named Harry's godparents when Harry was born. Sirius would have _died_ for James.

So why was James dead while Sirius, his Secret Keeper and best friend, was alive?

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"What?"

The grey-haired man in front of him sighed. "You will not be getting a trial, Mr. Black. You are found guilty of the…_death_ of Peter Pettigrew."

"I did NOT kill him! Merlin, how many times do I have to say that?" Sirius was seething with rage.

The man, who was the Ministry of Magic's equivalent to a Muggle lawyer, sighed again. "Mr. Black, I believe you, alright?"

Somehow, Sirius doubted that. Very much.

"But it still remains to be seen that all those Muggles in the town square saw you take out your wand and…explode Mr. Pettigrew! And you were the Potters' Secret Keeper. Who else would pass on the information to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?"

"I told you, I am not working for Voldemort! And the-"

After the customary flinch at the mention of Voldemort's name, the lawyer wizard cut Sirius off. "Also," he said, with a louder voice, as if to prevent Sirius from interjecting again. "Your family has long been in the league with You-Know-Who. Why, even your brother, Regulus Black, the _late_ Regulus Black, was discovered as a Death Eater. All the evidence is against you Mr. Black." And the man pushed back his chair and picked up his briefcase, deeming the conversation over.

"One more thing." Sirius' voice, dripping with forced calm, stopped the Ministry wizard before he stepped out of the room.

"Yes, Mr. Black?"

"Who sentenced this?"

"Barty Crouch Senior. Now, if you'll excuse me."

Sirius simply let the two aurors lead him out of the room. He was going to Azkaban, the stuff of nightmares, without a trial. Without a chance of seeing everyone he loved, without a chance of going to the funeral. Without seeing Remus, and proving his innocence.

The journey proved to be, disappointingly, boring. Sirius was forced to place a finger on a portkey at wand point. After the familiar jerk and whooshing feeling of displacement, Sirius found himself by the side of an enormous lake.

The water was as smooth as a mirror, and as black as night, which was odd as the sun was bright overhead. Sirius stared at the sun and the clouds in the blue sky, knowing that this would most likely be his last look at the world. He took a mental picture of the birds flying in the sky. Freedom. Something he was going to have to live without.

The aurors in charge of him placed magical handcuffs around his wrists, as magical bonds would be useless in Azkaban. They had some anti-magic spell. Sirius snorted to himself. Anti-magic spell.

He boarded the little boat (again at wand point) that would take them to the island in the middle of the lake. He watched the ripples that the boat made as it made its way to the ever looming fortress.

Before seeing them, Sirius felt the Dementors' presence. It felt as if he had plunged into the lake. He suppressed his shudder, and steeled himself.

As soon as the boat bumped onto shore, Sirius was forced out again. They blindfolded him, for what possible reason he could not discern.

The sheer number of Dementors terrified him. It was easy to see now how people went mad here.

Finally his blindfold was pulled off roughly and he was pushed into a cell. It had a small cot with a patched blanket (if you could call that thin piece of material a blanket) and a toilet in the corner. There was even a shackle, which was promptly enclosed around his right wrist. The cold metal bit into his skin.

He closed his eyes as the cell door clanged shut, and the key turned ominously in its lock. He shuddered again, as two Dementors glided into position on either side of the cell outside. The Ministry clearly weren't taking any chances.

Sirius sighed. This was it. His first day in Azkaban.

His first day in Hell.

OoOoOoOoOo

Aih. I wanted that to be a bit more descriptive. Ah well. The internet's not working, so I'll post this some other time. RRRR! It's 2.12 in the afternoon, and all I want to do is sleep with the blasted air-conditioner on, but nooo, I have my STUPID taekwondo at four thirty. The best thing? I have to go alone, 'cause my sister has exams and my brother is out of the state. Ish. So take pity on me and review…pweease?


	4. Innocence

This is weird. I'm doing the same type of scene for two different fics. Haha! Well, sorta kinda, anyway. So I'm typing both at the same time! Bwahaha!

On with ze angsty-ness!

_Disclaimer: If I owned HP and Co, I would have made Draco drag Harry into one of Madam Malkin's changing rooms and have hot monkey sex. Yes, even at the tender age of eleven. Still think I own it?_

_Warning: Slash. Though I don't see why I have to put it as a warning. Whatever._

OoOoOoOoOo

Odi et amo. quare id faciam, fortasse requiris?  
nescio, sed fieri sentio et excrucior.

_**I hate and I love. Why do I do it, perchance you might ask?  
I don't know, but I feel it happening to me and I'm burning up. **_

OoOoOoOoOo

_Thunder resonated throughout the place a few moments after the lightning forked across the sky. Rain fell in torrents, and visibility was poor although it was only two in the afternoon._

_He stood in the midst of a large crowd of weeping people, onlookers on the interment. The coffins were placed in a large marble tomb usually associated with Egyptian pharaohs and curses. The wind howled in their ears, whipping at their hair and…_

I'm telling this all _wrong_.

For starters, the sun was high in the sky, and clouds were sparse, making the heat unbearable, especially as he was in a suit. There was no sign whatsoever of rain, nor wind.

Remus stood in the middle of the Godric's Hollow graveyard in the centre of a handful of people. There stood Dumbledore, in black robes, the twinkle in his blue eyes somehow missing as he gave his speech. By his side was Hagrid, the half-giant sobbing openly into an enormous blue handkerchief. Minerva McGonagall, the Hogwarts' Transfiguration professor and head of Gryffindor, patted his arm awkwardly.

Other than that, Remus could not, or would not, identify any of the other faces there, few as they were.

A bead of sweat ran from his temple down his right cheek, accompanied by a lone tear. He'd never imagined having to go through this day so _soon_. To him, accepting the deaths of James and Lily was far, far harder than, say, accepting a dragon as a foster brother.

People were leaving. Already? Time was acting bizarrely, rushing past in great dollops one second, dragging out like molasses the next.

A hand on his shoulder. Remus turned his head slightly, as if unwilling tear his gaze away from the twin tombstones in front of him.

It was Dumbledore.

"Remus…Remus, do not let this…affect you, or your transformations."

"Don't worry, Professor," Remus spat. "I won't go attacking Muggles just because there's no one left for me in the world."

"That's just the thing, Remus." Dumbledore's voice was soft and kind, almost pitying. "There are people left for you." And he was gone with a pop.

Remus sighed. His hair glinted golden in the sunlight. Sirius had always loved Remus' hair, playing with it and twisting it idly between his fingers whenever they cuddled on the couch or in bed.

_Sirius_.

Fate really hated Remus.

First, his werewolf problems, which led to abuse at home. Shunned from the outside world. Then came Hogwarts, his first ace. Friends, and a lover. What could go wrong?

Everything, it seemed. Three of his best friends dead. His love, his only love, pronounced murderer of all three.

In the poker game of his life, he had been handed joker after joker.

How could the only man who loved him take away all that made him happy?

'By killing off my friends,' he found himself thinking bitterly. Remus had worked hard to maintain his beautiful world, and one Sirius Black had brought it all crashing down around his ears.

He shrugged off his jacket and loosened his tie, the warmth starting to get to him. He chucked it to the side and took a few steps forward, so he was now standing directly in front of the two gravestones he had been observing.

James Potter. Lily Evans-Potter. Husband and wife, side-by-side even in death.

OoOoOoOoOo

It was quiet. Too quiet. This being Azkaban, the wizard prison, one would expect it to be so.

Suddenly a shrill scream broke out. That's better.

If Sirius leaned forward, pressing his forehead to the bars in the process, he probably could tell which prisoner had shrieked.

But wait. This was no prisoner. It was a _visitor_. Visitors were practically unheard of in Azkaban; nothing but the strongest of loves could motivate anyone to stand the Dementors.

A man in Ministry official robes hurried past. Sirius narrowed his eyes. He knew that toothbrush moustache and the meticulously parted hair. Bartimaeus Crouch. He was 'famous' in the prison for sentencing his own son to Azkaban. Why on earth would he be here?

The answer was clear as he saw the unconscious woman in Crouch's arms. His wife, no doubt. Probably had given into grief at the thought of her only son had turned 'evil'. Sirius snorted, returning to his previous position leaning against the wall, his blue-grey eyes never leaving the Crouch couple until they passed out of his line of sight.

A Dementor passed by. Sirius felt the familiar wave of cold pass through him, but he did not shudder, already accustomed to the presence of the dark creatures. After all, they stood guard outside his cell 24-7.

It was a miracle he had not yet turned barmy. Only yesterday had he woken up to be greeted by the sight of the blood spattered walls and floor of the cell opposite him. Prisoner no. 6259, a Jeremy Amerson, charged with the gruesome murders of his parents, wife and six children. His wife had been pregnant with his seventh at the time. Apparently he had tied her up and killed everyone in front of her own eyes, before gutting her.

Now, Jeremy did not have Dementors outside his cell doors all day. Nevertheless, he had lost his mind in a matter of 4 or 5 days. He had committed suicide with his own nails and teeth. That same day (after the cleaning) the Ministry had made sure that all the prisoners were to have their nails cut every week.

Sirius did not know exactly how long he had spent in that cell. He had asked a Ministry official, once, but either she hadn't heard or chose not to. He couldn't scratch the number of days on the walls because he had nothing to scratch it with. Also, he never really had a head for math. But he knew that he had lasted longer than anyone else with the same security measures outside a cell had. This was proved by the frequent 'visits' of the prison's coroner.

When he had first worked out that he was not turning mad, a brief flame of joy sputtered to life in the numbing coldness of his soul. The Dementors had obviously sensed it, and, eternally hungry as they were for happiness, drifted just that little bit closer.

The flame died.

Even so, he pondered why he wasn't losing his grip on sanity. The answer came to him as an image of the macabre remains of Jeremy Amerson flashed before his eyes.

He was innocent.

The only reason people went mad in Azkaban was because Dementors made them revisit their worst memories, and these people had murdered and tortured others of their own free will. _Their_ sins came back to haunt them.

Sirius had been sent to the wizard prison ('Without trial,' he thought darkly) on the charges of passing on information to Voldemort which led to the death of the Potter couple, i.e. second-degree murder. (**1**)

But it was actually Peter who had betrayed Lily and James. Sirius had taken no part in the traitor's schemes.

He was innocent.

It wasn't a happy thought. It wasn't a question.

It just was.

Sirius clung onto that thought as he lay his head down on the hard cot in the corner of his cell. Sleep claimed him, and dreams of innocence, and amber eyes, filled his psyche.

OoOoOoOoOo

(**1**) Don't know if this is true…can't remember the proper term.

_Again, too short. I'm suffering from major writer's block. School started, so sue me. Though, it'll probably mean I might (MIGHT) update more often as an escape from the monotony of school life._

_Hey, let's play a game. Guess what this sentence means and I'll send you the next chapter before everyone else gets to read it! I'll give you an easy one:_

"_Saya memang suka membaca dan menulis tentang Harry dan Draco."_

_REVIEW!_


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